Lost? in the suburbs

My best friend in my office is a 57 year-old Hawaiian woman with a huge heart and a hearty laugh. She and I have tons of conversations about life and the way to live and the hot topics of the day. We chat about Detroit and the future of the city and we chat about politics. We even dabble in the spiritual realm sometimes, but our opinions differ and we don't ever wish to offend each other.

My friend has a loud voice that carries and she talks a lot. Usually she makes sense and has a point, but sometimes her message is lost. I always listen patiently and massage the message because usually she always has an important message to say.

A lot of people in the office think she talks too much and spends too much time with appointments. I think she speaks when she has something to say and is by far the best person in our office when it comes to forming relationships with students and staff. No other counselor is requested nearly as often as she is.

We had dinner on Friday night at the Green Dot Stables in Corktown, a place known for their sliders and truffle fries. It was crowded and the night was snowy, but we had a great time chatting about life, as we always do. Today she told me about how she told our co-worker about the restaurant. Our co-worker had never heard of the place and my friend said, "If you want to know anything about downtown, you need to talk to David."

This statement was profound to me. It wasn't shocking, by any means. I pride myself on getting involved with Detroit and knowing the city. But, I think back to when I wrote the title of this blog: Lost in the Suburbs.

The title was very intentional. When I started this blog I had recently moved to Dearborn unsure of myself, unsure of my place, unsure of my future and figuratively and literally lost. I had gained so much confidence and millennial pride after having a great college experience only to have my confidence shattered over a year of unemployment and living at home. While friends ventured off to grad school or AmeriCorps or full-fledged jobs in full-fledged cities I was stuck in Kalamazoo and Hillsdale and everywhere but where I wanted to go.

I searched aimlessly for a job in higher education or adventure education or politics and government only to find that rejection emails and letters were polite and in most cases it was standard to never hear from a place at all. My confidence was shaken. Was I good enough to make it? Did I do enough in college to prove worthy? Was I just a big fish in a small pond?

When I arrived in Dearborn I was wounded. I had finally landed a job, but I quickly realized that entry level paychecks don't go as far as we would like. I vowed to live a simple life, but still desired to have a cool apartment and new gadgets and a nice car. And worst of all, I was stuck in Detroit, a place that seemed to have perpetual gloom and depression hanging throughout every undefined suburb.

It was in this moment of misery that I started this blog. Mostly I wanted to prove to my friends that Detroit had something going for it; my friends who seemingly had it all in exotic locations like Chicago and St. Louis. I was stuck in a city that people didn't want to be in, that people didn't want to visit, that people didn't want to care about and I was stuck in a place that I fell into because I needed a job. I constantly remind myself that at one time in life I wanted a graduate degree in higher education.

After having been involved in college with organizations with built in friendships, I found that breaking into a city like Detroit is a hard thing to do. When you're the youngest person in your office and mistakenly identified as a student constantly at your place of work, it became hard to find friendships. If the office is filled with people you can't relate to and the community is filled with students I should maintain a professional distance from, what am I to do?

And I worked furiously to maintain relationships with my friends from college who now lived all over the country. I even put their names on a map on my wall so that I knew where I could go to escape my imprisonment.

One day when I was reading my blog I realized that it was incredibly depressing. Things were never cheery or funny, just constant complaints about how rotten things were. And it was at that moment that I decided I needed a new topic to write about. I determined that I should discover the city I was living in. I should write about places I discovered, good or bad, and work to find the character of this city. As I said earlier, I was determined to prove to my friends that my life was cool too.

As I started this project, I started by sharing experiences at attractions and restaurants. I decided to take alternative routes to get places, just to explore the roads. I liked to drive to new neighborhoods to see if things were really as bad as they say. I worked to find the closest locations for things like movies and pizza and tried to find my favorite bars. I talked to people in these places and scoured blogs for tips on where to go in the city. And slowly, I discovered there were cool things happening.

When my attitude started to change about Detroit I recognized that I needed to make a few things happen. First, I removed everyone's name from my map. The names only caused anxiety in me as I felt that I should be somewhere else or doing something else or that someone, somewhere was having more fun than I was. Second, I deleted my facebook. I was completely exhausted with trying to maintain a profile and I found I was always watching to see where people were that I was not. Third, I embraced the city I was in. I recognized that I was on my own, living in my own place, never having to fear about where my next meal was coming from and with plenty of cash to explore the city.

Through all of this I discovered things about myself that I only now have the chance to reflect upon. I discovered that I am in fact okay with being alone. I like myself enough that I have a good time being a bit naive and exploratory and talking to strangers. I found that when I waited for friends to do things, they often cancelled or didn't want to do the things I wanted to or took weeks to respond. I was wasting so much time when I could have been out doing things on my own.

I discovered that I enjoy Detroit and I enjoy simplicity. A fancy apartment does not give me happiness. New gadgets do not give me happiness. A new car does not give me happiness. I am happy when I discover something new. I am happy when I talk to someone about deep subjects. I am happy when I can sit and enjoy the peace of a warm summer day.

As this transpired I began to understand my place. For too long I spent time pining for the past, wishing things could go back to the way they were. And even if I wasn't wishing for the old days, I was still holding on to old friendships and memories that were long gone.

I realized that I had no vision for my future. I was not always thrilled about my job or my apartment or Detroit, but I had no alternate vision. I wasn't sure what I wanted. As quoted from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland:"


“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."
"I don't much care where –"
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”


I understood from this experience that I was exactly where I needed to be and that I needed to let go. I needed to let things happen and experience things. I needed to find what motivated me and what I liked. And ultimately I found that I was excited by Detroit. I was excited by progress. I was excited by potential in leaders and in neighborhoods and in people. It drove me to envision a future for myself. It is a vision that is constantly changing, mostly because it isn't here yet. Yet I now have a drive and can both be reminded of the past, appreciate my present, and prepare for the future.

While I have no plans for changing the title, I can, at this time question, whether I am still truly lost in the suburbs.

Bumper Stickers

Let me begin by saying this: if you are going to have a bumper sticker or vanity plate, please make sure it makes sense to those who see it. There have been countless plates lately with such odd collections of numbers and letters that I don't understand I usually cry out in fits of rage.

Bumper stickers are better, but I absolutely hate when the text is too small or the saying doesn't make sense. In general though, bumper stickers were designed by someone trying to make a statement. A personal favorite of mine: 'My Labrador is smarter than your honors student.' Its big, its easy to understand, and I get a nice little chuckle. Job well done.

This weekend I saw another 'A+' bumper sticker. It was on a small pick-up truck with dirty windows and all it said was, 'I pooped today.'

Let the crassness pass. Maybe let your laughter subside. I'll give you a moment. Okay. You good?

Excellent. Now think about this for a moment. I think there is a certain amount of genius in this. I don't know if the person who had this did so to better ID their car, because they were trying to be funny, or if they were trying to make a statement. Whatever the reasons this particular bumper sticker graced their window it made me think of two things: 1) 'Hey, I pooped today too, we must be pretty similar.' and 2) sometimes celebrating life's little accomplishments are all you need.

The first part of that thought made me far less aggressive with this particular driver. When someone shares with you that they pooped, you have a connection with that person. Maybe its the connection of shared experiences. Maybe its the connection of sharing intimate details about life. Whatever it is, I had this guys' back, no matter what. 'Hey, you go ahead and come into my lane, you pooped today!'

The second part of my thought, the thought about how celebrating life's little accomplishments is all you need is really what got me thinking. On my wall I had a manifesto from Lululemon. There are many motivational quotes like, 'Do one thing a day that scares you,' and stuff like that. One quote always puzzled me: 'The Pursuit of Happiness is the Source of All Unhappiness.'

Ponder that for a moment. We're all taught about the pursuit of happiness. For those of you who forgot, its in the Declaration of Independence. Tom Jefferson wrote about it as an unalienable right. We as a people have the chance to go out and try to find happiness. Its liberating. Its awesome to think about. Its terrifying for most of us today.

I think much of this terror comes from the fact that we have so many influences on our life that try to tell us what happiness looks like. Is it gobs of money? Is it a nice house? Is it a great job? What is it exactly that makes us happy? In a quest to find the answers we begin to reach for all the things we think we need. We don't make enough money so we search for ways to make more, only to become disappointed when we can't make what we thought we needed. We want a nice house, but become distraught when we can't afford the luxury we want. We strive for a great career and find ourselves stuck behind an office desk wondering when we can escape.

The pursuit of happiness is often the exact cause for unhappiness in our lives, a notion that we don't have what we want so we must not be happy. I look at it as that one thing you search and search for and no matter how hard you try to find it, you can't. And then, one day you stop looking. You give up the search and suspect you will never find it. You let it go. And suddenly, there it is, exactly where you left it. This, I think, is the pursuit of happiness. When you stop trying so hard to get the things to make you happy you might find that you are already there.

I pooped today. Such a simple statement. Something that sounds proud. If that person accomplished nothing else today, they can be happy with the fact that their bowels are under control. Sometimes these simple things are enough. We can always strive to be better, but what is it that makes us better? Your wallet and your house and your job don't really care about how your day was, but the people in your life do. Chances are the secret to happiness lies not in the things we think we need to pursue, but in the small joys and accomplishments of the day.

So the next time you are having a tough day and thinking about your personal weaknesses or things you didn't do correctly; the next time you think you don't have enough money or a good house or a good job, just remember that you did accomplish something today. You pooped. And even if today was not that kind of a day, there's a good bet that tomorrow will be. Enjoy the simple things in life and happiness will find a way to you.

Why I Run

With the new year come new hopes and aspirations. As I stated last time, I have applied to graduate school, something that for me represents a new challenge as an individual. I hope that I will learn and grow, but also try my hand at something that I feel has great value to the world as a whole. Corny and cliched? Maybe. But it feels good.

As I also stated last time, self-doubt has crept in. Will I be good enough to be accepted? What if I don't? Will I be stuck doing something I don't want to forever? How will I pursue what I want to pursue? What can I do to keep growing, develop skills, and find my next great adventure?

Naturally, all of this is a bit scary. Self-doubt is incredibly crippling. If you allow yourself to be overcome by negative thoughts posed by others or more often by yourself, it is very often that those doubts become reality, a never-ending spiral into dark places. It becomes so tough to escape and easily seeps into the other areas of your life: relationships, day-to-day activities, and your overall health. It is terrible to be caught in this trap and I wondered how I would ever be able to persevere.

Until I started to think about running.

People often ask me why I run. Usually its a very indirect question such as, why would you ever want to run that far? Some people will try to talk about the dangers of running or the joints I'll have to replace as a deterrent, but I am too far into it to stop. The truth is that I run for a lot of different reasons, and the more I run, the more those reasons change and grow.

When I first started running I was a person who believed that running was only good if you could chase a ball. If there were no reason to run, what was the point? It seems silly that we would want to run for miles and miles with no real reason other than to do it. How is it possible?

My first race I trained for was a 5K with the intent of finishing. At the time, running a mile brought up terrible memories of high school gym class, huffing around the track. Running 3.1 miles was just crazy. But, when I started, it was simply because I knew other people who had run a 5K and thought, 'I want to do that too.' It started as a means to accomplishment.

After that race I felt pretty good. I realized that a 5K wasn't that bad. I was tired, but I also recall thinking about that one place where I stopped running for a few moments. I thought about how I could have started a little slower to run the entire time. I could have run faster, harder, better.

So I decided to do another race. And another. And increase the distance. And soon I recognized that I wanted to one day do a marathon. And I wanted to do a marathon before I started my 'real life' because I wanted to have a sense of accomplishment. So I decided that I would do the Bayshore Marathon in May of my senior year of college. Mostly because I wanted to say I had run a marathon.

Marathon training is hard work. I started training around Christmas for the race in May, running nearly every day. With every race I run, I always sign-up before the training begins. I do this not because I'm worried of getting a spot in the race, but because with the cost of a non-refundable entry fee, I am obligated to train.

Training for a spring race in Michigan means fighting the biting cold in January and February, running when its dark, running on ice and snow, and wearing multiple layers upon layers to log those miles. It isn't always fun and there are many days it seems downright crazy.

But, the truth is that there will always be an excuse if you let there be. I could have said that it was too dark, I was too tired, it was too cold to go running. But, I knew that when March rolled around it would be too windy. And in April it would be too muddy. And when the race came in May, I wouldn't be ready.

So, I ran every day. I ran increasing miles. I ran even though I was taking 17 credit hours, president of the largest organization on campus, actively involved on 2 other boards, participating in Alternative Spring Break, and working about 15 hours a week. To say my schedule was packed is an understatement.

Training for a marathon requires logging miles. But, the truth is that the hardest part of a marathon is not the distance. The hardest part of the marathon is the voice in your head that says you can't do it. The hardest part is the people who say you can't do it. The hardest part is that time when you are tired, and worn, and the work you are doing is hard, but you push through. The training is there to remind you that you CAN do it and have in fact, trained to do it.

Today I have accomplished 2 full marathons, 3 half marathons, and have a full scheduled in June and am contemplating a half in April. I fully intend on running a half or full marathon in every state before I turn 50. I intend on doing this because running, for me, is a wonderful metaphor for life.

As self-doubt tries to cripple me before my first big life decision, I remind myself of running.

Running is accomplishment. Running is attitude. Running is tenacity and determination. Running is meditation. Running is perseverance.

That is why I run. I run to remind myself that I can. I can run those extra miles. I can get up in the morning. I can pack my schedule with life. I can persevere through the hardest times.

We all run a marathon in life. Sometimes it is a bit of hard work. Sometimes we just don't want to get up in the morning. We have a choice, though. We've already signed up for the race. We can either train for it, or watch as the race passes us by. But you'll always regret not running the race. You will never regret the hard work it took to accomplish your goals.